


Your Hero

by Featherly



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bank Robbery, Fire, No Smut, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 06:33:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13071126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Featherly/pseuds/Featherly
Summary: You deposit your money, but then everything goes wrong.Masked men enter the bank with guns and the intention of taking what they want. You become their hostage, and they leave you to die in the fire they start. Nightwing saves you.





	Your Hero

“I’d like to deposit this money into my account please” you tell the bank teller, a fat old woman who was kind enough to take your money, even against the policy stating deposits couldn’t be made 5 minutes before closing.   
She takes your money and places it into the register underneath the counter, then types away at her computer. You give her your card, and as she works you look at her photos. A picture of a large group who would be her family, perhaps around christmas, another of who must be her 5 grandchildren.

“That’s all done love” she says, handing your card back to you, “Have a lovely night.” 

You reply “you too” with a smile and head for the exit, but then a group of men in masks enter, guns pointed at the roof. You freeze, paralysed until bullets begin to fly. You fall to the ground and crawl under a nearby table, arms over your head and eyes closed, too afraid to look, hoping that the whole thing was merely a bad dream.

Time slows down when you hear three of them walking towards the woman you had just spoken to. “Give me the money, then give me whatevers in the vault on level 5” said one of them in a deep, threatening voice.

The woman sounded frantic, saying “We don’t carry money here. It says so on this-”   
The man’s gun went off, and their steps could be heard jumping over the counter. “Don’t carry money.” he let out a laugh, the thought of them not carrying money clearly preposterous. “Just saw her take some from whoever’s under that table.”

They know you’re there. OF COURSE they know you’re there. They could probably still see you really. It was kinda dumb to think you were safe there with gun weilding maniacs less than 15 metres from you. You become very aware of your breathing, a hand unconciously going to your chest. You jump when an alarm finally goes off. 

You hear the guys with the guns yell to each other over the obnoxious sound, and panic when you hear the steps coming towards you again. You struggle against the grip on your arm, and try to kick at your assailant. He hold your arms behind your back with one hand, using the other to aim a gun at your head. “SOMEONE KILL THE ALARM” he screams into your ear.

The alarm stops suddenly, and your strugges are dead. You have a gun to your head, and you’re not dumb enough to provoke him. Just do as he says and you can get out of there alive.

You get thrust towards the stairs to the right of where you deposited your money earlier. You glance over at the sweet old woman and see red everywhere, even on the photo of her grandchildren. You gasp at the sight, your chest constricting on itself. She had only done her job...

You climb the stairs, the gun placed in the centre of your back. You move quickly, afraid of your fate as they lead you up four flights of stairs, landing you on the fifth floor. You stand in the centre of the room next to a group of two others. The man behind you kicks the back of your knees, forcing you to kneel next to them. He moves in front of you and points his gun at each of the people in front of him. “Move and you’re dead, hostages.” 

The man next to you is sobbing. “Please, I have a fami-”  
You flinch as another shot rings out. You close your eyes out of reflex and feel the wetness of blood against your face. It drips down your neck drying as it becomes thinner. Your breathing is erraric, but you’re not even aware of it. You want to scream. A strangers blood is on your face, drying into it. You're about to scream, but the woman on the other side of him screams first. Its loud, blood curdling, and gets cut off with the sound of another bullet going off.

“Quit wasting the hostages” yells someone from infront of you. 

You don’t scream, but instead cry. They let you do this. 

Your mind goes back to the fat old woman; she had such a large family. She had grandchildren, which meant she had kids of her own, even if they were adults. She was in a job that should have been safe. She should have left minutes ago and gone home. Now the only person who would enter her front door tonight is the police, telling her family that she would never be coming home again. Your heart breaks for her and her family. 

The smell of smoke hits your nostrils and you are immediately brought to attention. Your eyes widen at the fire that has already engulfed the newly emptied vault. It travels quickly along the line of petrol leading towards the stairs where the intruders had already run away. You freeze again then slowly stand, waiting to see if you would make it to your full height, or if a bullet would take you too. The latter doesn’t happen, so you run towards the stairs. The smoke is already too much however, and you begin to cough uncontrollably before you make it.   
You fall to the ground with your eyes closed, your hand covering your mouth, coughing in a fit. You wonder why the sprinkler system hasn’t gone off, but decide it doesn’t matter. You hear the fire burning around you and hear the vault collapse into the floor below. You roll onto your back with your eyes closed, one hand still on your mouth, the other on your chest.  
You wonder how long it will take for your part of the floor to fall in too, and imagine the pain if the floor above collapses into you first. You hear a sound somewhere in the direction of the stairs, a dull thud as if something hand fallen from above already. You don’t want to die, but you can’t move. The smoke is in your lungs and your head hurts. Your body just wont respond.

You flinch when someone touches you on the shoulder, and moan from your throat when they don’t let go. They sit you up, and you open your eyes half way. Through the dense smoke, you see glowing white eyes and a boxy silhouette. Your eyes drift to the latex gloves on your shoulder, and your head followingly lolls to the side.

The new stranger speaks, but you can’t really make out whathe’s saying. It is as if he is talking to someone else, and maybe he is. He stops speaking and then lifts you up; one arm under your back, the other under your leg. The stranger is strong, and you know not just because he is carrying you, but because you can feel every muscle in his large arms working, as well as the rock harness of his chest and abs in your side.

He positions you into his left arm, struggling with something in his right. He then places this something over your face, and you can breath again. He quickly transfers you back into both arms and begins walking.

At last your head is clearing, finally being safe from the smoke. You jump when you hear a young voice close by, as if someone were speaking less than an inch from your ear; “I’m going to take you to the second floor where theres a window there we can go through. From there, I’ll take you to the ground and pass you onto paramedics.” 

The voice sounds around your age. Its deep, and quick, and caring, and you can’t help but melt at it, no matter how dangerous your situation is. You nod, trusting this stranger entirely, and he begins to walk as if he isn’t carrying anything at all.

He stands you up, holding you to his side. You finally see his face, and even though he has a mask over his mouth to aid in stopping smoke inhalation, you recognise the mask over his eyes and the blue on his chest immediately. Nightwing. 

Nightwing guides your hands around his neck and lifts you onto his hip, holding you there with one arm around your waist. He hoists you off the ground and encourages you to grip him with your thighs. You straddle him and hold yourself up as much as you can, but his arm around you helps you the most.

When you’re in a position he is happy with, he uses his free hand to shoot the grapple gun, which hits the burning roof above the stairs. He carefully guides the two of you to hover over the drop below. The ground is burning and requires careful maneuvering on both of your parts. He hovers, over the space and slowly releases it so you drop at a careful, slow pace. You tighten your grip around his neck and bury your head into him. If you let go, he could probably hold your weight, but that isn’t a risk you want to take. 

You hear his voice in your ear again, saying “Don’t look down,” and his voice is so powerful, you have no choice but to listen. You stare into his neck, and then feel his muscles spasm. He pulls both of you up until he has his hand level with his crotch, and you can’t help but look at what he is doing. He hooks the grapple onto his belt, and when his hand moves you see just how nausiatingly high up you are. You feel your head spin and moan, and then your breath hitches. He uses his now spare hand to tilt your head up and look him in the eyes. “Just look at me” he says.

His voice is so sweet, so caring. You can’t help but do as he says. “Are we going to make it out?” you ask him. You didn’t even mean to say anything, and you want to cover your mouth, but if you did you would risk him dropping you. 

“Of course we are” he says with a cocky accent. “We’re going to change positions now” he continues, hooking a harness around you. He removes his arm from around your waist, and you immediately wish it were still there. He fiddles with your harness for a moment and then hooks it onto his own, all while hanging suspended from a roof that collapse at any moment. 

Nightwing slowly lets you go, until you are suspending from him. He takes the opportunity to place another harness around your upper body, clipping it onto himself as well. “Now we need to be really careful. Don’t look down, and make sure you hold on whenever you can.”

You nod quickly, unsure if he would hear you should you say anything. 

Nightwing pulls out a second grapple gun and shoots it to the other end of the roof. He allows the one attached to his belt to slowly produce more line, eventually lining you and him up with the second set of stairs which would take you to the third floor. He pulls on the grapple at his belt, which releases itself from the roof and reels itself in. You grab him tighter as you both swing above the third floor. You shiver despite the heat surrounding you. 

Nightwing repeats the process from before, slowly lowering you both towards the next level above the flames. It goes well, until the roof surrounding the grapple’s entry point breaks off, and you both fall.   
Your instincts tell you to grip him tighter, so you throw your arms around his neck and put your legs around his wide hips. He throws his own arm around you and twists his body mid air, shooting his other grapple towards the opposite end of the next roof. You let out a small yelp when he supports your weight by putting his hand under your ass and hoisting you up so your legs come above his hips. His feet hit the flaming ground before he reels in the grapple again, swinging you both above the next stairway to the second floor. He brings his legs up and rests his calves on the wall, allwing you to sit on them while he leaves his arm around you, holding you close. “Are you alright?” he asks in a frantic voice. He quickly repeats his process of hooking the grapple gun onto his belt and places his other now free hand onto the back of your neck, moving your head to either side. You let out an affirming moan, unable to speak from the earlier inhaled smoke.

Nightwing lowers his legs one at a time, releasing you to speak into his ear piece with his left hand, releasing the grapple’s length with his other. You hear him say something like “No, i lost it” and “Only one, the others were dead.” You decide he is only talking to Batman, and though you would like to listen to him speak more, simply because of his calming angelic voice, you can’t. Your head lolls back unexpectedly, and Nightwing’s hands are out of his ear and on the back of your head. You look up at him with half lidded eyes, and suddenly he’s talking to you again. “Whoa whoa whoa, stay with me now. Just one more floor to get through, okay.” You hear the floor above collapse, and hear the crackling of the fire. You nod at him, but you can’t be too sure what he said. Your head begins to loll back again, and suddenly you’re both hanging there again. He pushes a button on the side of his mask and both of his hands move to either side of your head. He forces you to make eye contact- eye contact. The button on his mask removed the white screen to reveal a ridiculous blue hiding underneath, and you can’t help but stare into the beautiful sight. If you were’t already red from the heat of the fire, you would definitely be blushing.

You lean into the contact of his hands but you don’t break the eye contact. His eyes are so piercing and gorgeous that you don’t want to stop looking at them, ever. He begins talking again, but you cut in- “Your eyes are beautiful. Should show them more.” 

Despite the dire situation he laughs, and it is truly the most adorable laugh: three short bursts from the heart in a high pitch with a snort on the end. He quickly covers his mouth, embarrassed by the last sound, but replaces the hand to your head again when the ceiling above cracks and threatens to drop you both again. “Need you to hold on tight. You can’t space out though, please, please try to stay with me. We just need to get down one more floor and we’re in the clear. Pay extra special attention right now.”

You nod hard, showing that you really understand what he said, and that you’re willing to comply. You force your stinging eyes open and focus.   
You reach out with your arms again and wrap them around his neck, pulling yourself up in the process. You carefully wrap your legs around his waist above his hips, and you hold your chest to him. Your head sits nestles into the front of his neck and you squeeze him with your body to show that you’re ready. 

He moved quickly now, releasing his grapple from the roof and retracting it. You fall, but you feel completely safe. It reels in completely and is shot with precision above the door. He steps into the flames again and jumps, kicking the door open and bursting through it. He lands with a thud, holding onto you again. You hear him say “oh no”, but you don’t have to lookup to know why. You hear the fire crackle all around you, you hear things from the roof drop down onto the floor below and smash through. You chance a glance to the side, but all you see is fire. His finger is in his ear again, saying “they torched the whole second floor B. I should be able to get to the window, but it could take a while.” he was silent for a while, then continued speaking, “Floor above could collapse, floor below could collapse. Fire escape is still out of reach... The design of this place was really flawed.” 

He releases your harness and carries you like a bride, treading carefully across the floor towards the windows. You lean into his arms, looking back into his eyes. “Doing okay?” he asks you, making your heart flutter. 

“Your eyes are beautiful” you reply. He smirks, and even under his other mask you can still see it. He pushes the button on his mask again and his blue orbs are gone. You immediately regret saying anything at all.

Nightwing carefully tiptoes along the floor, and all you can do is watch and listen. You jump at a loud crack and watch the floor across the room break away. “Shit” Nightwing whispers. You hear this next to your ear and it sends a shiver down your spine. He hoists you up almost violently and runs towards the fire.

He jumps with incredible power and you see the window in front of you ready to shatter. You think you’re going to make it, until you feel him grab his grapple again. He aims it at the window, but you fall too quickly. It hits the bottom of the window, and only succeeds in breaking the glass. Theres nothing for it to grapple into, so it falls with you. Nightwing yells out, and you panic for a moment.   
Nightwing turns you with expertise as the world slows down. He throws both of his arms around you and puts his chin on your head. He wraps one of his legs around your body, keeping the other one straight. Your legs reet on his one straight leg, and you feel every one of his muscles tense as he hits the ground. He turns into a roll, taking caution to not crush you in the process. Your shoulder hits the ground with force and you let out a short cry. The roll ends with Nightwing’s body slamming into a wall, hard. The force pushes you harder into his body. It feels like a hard bed of muscle, and even though the current situation could kill you, you can’t help but feel a little turned on. 

Nightwing sits up. You’re sitting between his legs, and he helds your chin as he searches your face. “Are you okay?” he asks, concern evident in his tone. 

“Yeah” you reply, “can I see your eyes again?”

Dust falls from the roof above and lands on your shoulder. Nightwing brushes it off, but you flinch in pain. He recoils, taken aback by the unexpected reaction.   
“We’ll get you to the medics soon.” said Nightwing. He stood, searching the area. “I think we can make it through the flames and reach the door.”   
He picks you up again, so gentle with your shoulder, and runs towards the door. You’re being shaken like a ragdoll, but you decide he knows what he’s doing and allow it, even if it send a slight pain up your injured side. He almost makes it to the door, but the floor above collapses. 

Nightwing steps backwards, holding your body closer to his, only, he didn’t step back far enough. A long wooden beam sends him to the ground, you still in his arms, and another pins his leg to the marble floor. He screams, grits his teeth, and grunts. His hold on you tightens and for a moment you think he’s about to crush you. Your body bends on itself as Nightwing contorts you, but he releases the tention once the pain becomes manageable.

“Think its broken” he says into his ear piece. “No, no I’m pinned.” theres silence for a moment, when he looks down at you with his still covered eyes. You look back into him, trying to see through his mask. “You’re sending him now? Well okay...”

He places a hand on your head, perhaps subconciously, and starts running his fingers through your hair. It feels really good, and you lean into the touch. “Robins coming to help us now” said the hero, and as if on cue, a smaller boy entered through the hole in the roof, landing on either side of the beam pinning Nightwing’s leg.

“Hiya” says Robin with a wave. He jumps down and lifts the beam off the older boy’s leg, clearly using all the strength he could muster. Nightwing moves himself backwards with both hands, ceasing the movement his hands were making through your hair. You miss the contact, but then remember what the sitution is.

.

Nightwing holds you in one arm and uses the other to stand. Robin helps him from the side you’re on, and then helps the older hero limp towards where he had entered. Robin aims the grapple at the ceiling 7 stories up and hooks it onto Nightwing’s belt. He takes Nightwings and shoots it up to a similar space. “You should have really gone up in the first place” said the younger sidekick, who spares a glance for you. Nightwing gives him a deadly glare that makes you think they’re brothers. “Batman’s gonna be so mad.” He had a cocky look about him, this new edition, but you only have eyes for your hero.

The grapple reels you both up, and you look at the fiery damage that has destroyed Gotham’s bank. On the fifth floor you see the bodies of the two people, thinking about how it could have been you. You look down, not wanting to see this sight, and give a sharp intake of breath. Your head spins as you see how high up you are, and Nightwing brings your head up again, saying “No no no, don’t look down.   
You feel the moisture of your tears dry up before they even leave your eyes, and Nightwing notices. He hugs you tight, telling you ‘its going to be okay.’

The grapple runs out of line, and Robin takes something from his little belt and runs it around the length of the ceiling within his reach, which creates a hole big enough for him to fit through. He passes the device to Nightwing and crawls inside the roof. When Nightwing has finished, he passes the device back to Robin. Robin can be heard walking around inside, and Nightwing pulls you through the ceiling and into the roof. He grunts when his leg hits anything, and you can’t help but admire him. “What’s your name anyway?” he asks you. You tell him, your eyes darting to Robin every few seconds to see the light that begins beaming through. “It’s beautiful.” Nightwing replies, placing a hand on his swelling ankle.

Robin carefully guides the now cut away roof to fall below him and helps his partner to his new exit. You marvel at the fact he is still carrying you in one strong arm, and your heart pulses. Robin pushes Nightwing up from underneath, both grunting at their individual struggles. Once finally on the roof, the whole party panting, Nightwing releases you and lays on his back. You lay next to him, and he puts his hand underneath your head. 

“You’ve obviously... Been working... Out” says Robin between breaths. “Your ass... Is-”   
Nightwing cuts him off- “Why didn’t we... Just go through... The way you came... In?”   
“Was on fire” slurred the younger boy, laying down on your other side. You all lay there, feeling the intense heat underneath you for some time. A crack sounds underneath you, and the heros are standing quickly. Robin grabs you around the waist and grapples to the building across the street. You look down again and your head spins at the sight. Below is like an abyss, a drop that would kill you. Theres flashing lights and further down the street is police tape. They must have closed off the whole block, you think.

Robin reels in the grapple, swinging both of you across the street. He lands with his legs bent, you dangling at his side. You hear a dull thunk next to you; Nightwing’s grapple gun.

Robin begins to take you down, and you think of Nightwing’s words. ‘Look at him’ you think. You look up and see him, how his leg bends into the wall so accurately, how he completed his tasks and moved with an unmatched grace. You take some pleasure in looking at his skin tight uniform, how it conforms so perfectly to his toned body. You see just how big his muscles are, and wonder who he really is. You remember his eyes; his beautiful, piercing eyes.

You feel Robin jolt as you finally hit the ground. He guides you to the paramedics, who sit you on a gurney. You think you’re bout to be taken without saying thanks, but then Nightwing calls out “wait!”

He limps over to you, and lifts your arms. You’re about to put them around his neck out of instinct, but stop when he begins feeling at your chest. You look down, feeling a little bit violated, but then you realise he is just taking his harness back. “Batman wouldn’t want me to lose this” he says, holding up his prize. “Have a safe journey mam’” he says with a wave.   
“Thankyou!” you yell out to him louder than necessary. He turns back to you with a smile, and then limps over to a long black car which seemed to have pulled up out of nowhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Its my first time writing in second person. How did I go?


End file.
